It’s all about the words. It always was.
Only I didn’t know it at the time.
I wandered around for most of my life with a pen and a piece or two of paper. A battered journal accompanied me across Ireland. I wrote my way through the Soviet Union. I always turn to writing in the night, those small hours between midnight and dawn that seem the darkest. Before I was aware of my complex PTSD I used writing as a way to manage my demons. The slender thread of ink across a page provided a lifeline more than once.


A blog devoted to Complex PTSD. Promoting better understanding, community and recovery.

Better Understanding Complex PTSD

In 100 Words

Complex PTSD Writings

The Thinking Read

Writing about writing. This is where the other half of my efforts go.

Stalking the Wild Haiku

Poetry: The Original Soul Food

Book Reviews

Outta Left Field : Political Analysis

Unadulterated Fiction

Novels and Other Madness

Survivors’ Voices

A collection of essays written by other survivors, an anonymous platform for them to tell their stories.